The Cherry Blossom
by queenofomega
Summary: One-shot: Everyone has something to remember someone by. Stuck in a state of mourning, one of the team thinks about a special someone's last moments and how they coped with it. Surprise pairing at the end unless you can guess.


**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.**

**Author's Note: As I sat listening to this beautiful song [search 'Romantic Piano Piece (Lullaby by Brad White and Pierre Grill) on YouTube] I thought of my neighbour's old cherry tree and the blossoms it used to drop every spring. I started typing and this is what I came up with. As you will notice, it does not mention which characters I am writing about until the very end. I would love to hear your original guesses as you read it. Please review.**

**Lim x  
**

Cherry blossoms. He knew she would have loved the spot. The cherry blossoms drifted down from the trees like large snowflakes, before catching on the wind and being sent spiraling through the air like mischievous pink butterflies. The blossoms continued to drift downward until they landed at his feet. As he watched, small droplets of water soared down to meet them. They spilled down over the blossoms, leaking onto the grass before. It took him a moment to realize that the shimmering beads were not water; they were tears he hadn't noticing escaping.

Millions of bright flowers filled the field, growing around the increasing number of stone memorials. One more had only just been added. He was afraid to step forward, afraid to read the name on the memorial again. It would only prove that his dream would never end. A nightmare that would not cease to exist. It was as if time had slowed down, muted the sound of cars and sirens in the background, leaving only a pale outline of his body in such a peaceful place.

He wanted to remain there, among the tranquil beauty, not wanting to reach out and grasp the painful reality that he was desperately hiding from. How was it that one cold piece of metal could change his life and put someone underneath six feet of damp, dark dirt. He was caught in no man's land, where sadness and anger threatened to attack one another, fighting for a place in his heart. He was numb, unable to feel. She wouldn't want him to feel either emotion, but she was gone and there would be no calming words to sooth him.

_  
It had been two nights previously in that same field. Men lurked in the shadows, getting away with crimes that were immoral, and they were going to put a stop to it. He watched as she crept forward, stealthy, silent, blending with the shadows the men thought were their friends. The moon cast a dull glow onto her hair, making it shimmer in an almost spooky manner._

_The men laughed, hollow, heartless sounds. She thought they couldn't see her, but she was wrong. He was too busy admiring her to notice the looming threat. He was too late to call out a warning when a loud cracking sound split the air and drew his attention. He then realized his mistake._

It had been his fault. His tears flowed freely now. Onlookers in the background made no comment when he fell to his knees. His fingers kneaded the damp earth, almost hoping he could dig her up again. Part of him wanted to embrace moving on, another part of him wanted to go back in time. It had been avoidable, but he had screwed up, for lack of a better term. No. It was the perfect term, and she would agree. He had screwed up, and she paid the price.

The sunlight was beginning to fade, and little raindrops began to coat his back and hair. They mixed with his tears until he could not tell which was which. The rain fell harder, as if to wash away the blood that still stained his heart and the field. Soon, thunder and lightening threatened away all of those paying their respects. But not him, he let out a wordless scream. He screamed her name, he screamed profanities, he screamed anything, just to hear it get drowned out by the thudding of rain in his ears. He let the wind pull at his hair and tear at his clothes. He wondered if the emotional pain he felt was anything like the physical pain she had endured for him.

_  
She never screamed, she never whimpered or cried. She left that to him. Even in her last moments, she couldn't resist smiling to tease him. Even though she was soaked in blood from her chest, obviously in pain, she smiled. It was like an angel had already come to take her place- no. She had already been an angel from the moment he had met her._

_He sobbed for both of them. His tears managed to equal her pain and his fear. He had never cried like this in front of her, but it did not bother him. He held her hand, while pulling out his cellphone to call for help. He shouted when the operator told him how long it would take for an ambulance to arrive. He knew she did not have that much time. Time was being stolen from them. He buried his head in her hair. He drank in her presence, her scent, her remaining warmth. Even though he cradled her in his arms, she was getting colder as the life began to drain out of her._

_She struggled to speak. He shushed her, though she was persistent. She was still smiling. She tried to force out the words, but only managed to cough up crimson blood. Suddenly, her tears began to mix with his, but she was still smiling. Unknown to him, she had to keep smiling. Her eyes were dull, but she kept smiling._

_A single cherry blossom floated down from above them. He now caressed her hair, and flinched as she reached up with surprising strength to grab it. She held it in the palm of her hand. With his empty hand, he wrapped hers in his palm, curling his fingers around hers. Still in between their skin was that one cherry blossom. The moon shone down on the couple. A siren began to break the silence but it was too late. Her hand went limp in his, and it triggered a new set of now dry sobs._

_She was taken away before he had even had a chance to speak. She left him with the cherry blossom still in his hand._

The cherry blossom sat on his kitchen counter in a glass jar. On the jar was her name, written in black Sharpie. He would never move it, never get rid of it. It was his own personal memorial. The wind still buffeted his mourning body. He made no effort to move to shelter.

She had been the light that brightened his night. She was a song that did not need lyrics to be explained. She was as fierce as beautiful as a thorned rose. It had made her special. Her determination was what kept him going. She had helped him with so many things, there were too many to list. She had put up with him and his childish antics. She had been at his side when need be. She was the sound that broke a lonely silence. She was the friend that could make a loner someone important. Even when he tried to do something for her, he always felt that she had always done more. No one would ever be able to replace her.

He cursed the men that had taken her life. They had taken away his chance to tell her how he felt. Now he would never get that chance. A delicate part of his sanity was so close to breaking because of that. For the first time in his life, having a relationship did not feel like some game. It was something that had to be cherished and nourished. She had helped him see that, but without her, he would have stayed blind.

The storm began to calm down and peace was beginning to return once more. As the sun peaked out from behind the clouds, its warmth stretched down to pat him on the head as if to say, "Get up! It will be okay!". He stood, and saw how the flowers glittered and sparkled after the rain. He managed a cheesy grin at the sight. He wondered if he would ever heal. He suspected that a part of him would always be missing, but she would want him to continue living. In the past twenty-four hours, he had contemplated joining her. She would never forgive him if he gave all of their friends another reason to grieve.

He looked at the memorial once more before turning away, wiping the tears and the rain from his eyes with a drenched sleeve. He walked in silence for a few paces before something pulled him around. Even from far away, he could read her name, engraved on the stone. Underneath was the star of David.

"I love you, Ziva."

Although he knew she probably could not hear him, he said it anyway. He had to say it out loud. Little did he know, she had heard him. Even though he thought it was a trick of the wind, a strong voice carried to his ears.

_I love you too, Tony._

He left, and in the place of where he had just stood, lay a single, pink cherry blossom.

**Fin.**


End file.
